The Royal Wedding
by EAlove
Summary: "Will you marry me?" England had thought about proposing America for a year now... What will America's answer be? Rated K  for now, but the rating will go up up up with the chapters!
1. The proposal

**Author's note:** First, I'm sorry I haven't uploaded in a long time =/ I'm still writing the next chapter of _I was meant to meet you_, and another story, a UKUS, so it akes time. Plus my studies are... eating my free time, you have no idea! Anyway!

So I was greatly inspired by the Royal Wedding... So after doodling Arthur with Prince William's costume, I wanted to write a fic XD Well, more precisely, first I wanted to _draw_ it. Like... A doujin, you know? I have so many ideas! I'll probably do some pages though~ But here, the fic XD There will be another chapter, this one is the prologue only ^^

Warnings: Mention of sex, but nothnig much really. Though I can promise there _will_ be something in the next chapter! I titled the fic 'The Royal Wedding' because it's somehow based on the real Royal one, but there will be no mention of Catherine. Though _maybe_ the two Princes and the Queen will be there~ I'll see!

Enjoy~!

**Disclaimer: **Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.

~o~0~o~

Arthur Kirkland wasn't one to stress over such a little thing. And he sure wasn't feeling a tight lump in his throat as he waited for his boyfriend's answer.

So to summary it, maybe it wasn't a 'little thing' at all. Alright, you got me! It was the understatement of the year. Right now, Arthur Kirkland, the personification of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, was doing the most important thing he had ever done.

He was proposing to his boyfriend.

Lucky guy, who happened to be Alfred F. Jones, the personification of the United States of America. Him and England had been dating for decades now.

It all started when the British Empire won the American colony over France. England had raised the boy as if he were his own little brother, fed him, and offered him love and shelter. Sadly it wasn't that much of a peaceful time. The British Empire was at war on many parts of the globe and found less and less time to be with his colony. He started to tax the boy even more, trying to get money. It all resulted in the grown colony declaring his independence… and winning it. That was the fall of the British Empire.

Despite the resentment they could have felt, they met again, many times. When America entered the Second World War, England was having a hard time staying alive. But as a true hero, America saved his beloved. Yes, _beloved_. Alfred had come with the conclusion that his love for his ex-brother had morphed into true, real, pure love.

On the VE-Day, the had kissed. It was their first, and certainly not their last. America had confessed his love, and England –who was fully aware of his own love towards the obnoxious yet adorable American- had replied to the offered love.

And so, they were a couple since then.

Even though they often bickered over a few, meaningless things, they had promised not to leave each other again.

So, England thought, why not making this promise official? To be honest, it already had been a decade he was thinking about the idea. How would Alfred react? Would he be ready? Would he accept it?

A month ago though, Arthur pulled his courage all together and decided that yes, he would propose his lovely boyfriend.

And that's where he was now.

He had planned a lovely day, which he spent cuddling with America, doing embroidery while the American was watching some films. But in all honesty, the Brit didn't manage to finish anything he had started embroidering; he was too stressed, even if his boyfriend's warm arm around his shoulders was comfortable.

When he decided it was time, he urged the confused American to dress nicely, and did so himself.

Arthur found himself stunned when he saw Alfred coming downstairs, wearing a dark blue tuxedo, matching with his bright blue eyes with perfection. His golden blonde hair had been combed, even if there was still that special strand of hair defying gravity. His eyes sparkled with love and adoration when he spotted the Brit waiting for him.

The English man was wearing a light grey suit and a green tie. His beautiful emerald green orbs were watching the other man with full attention. His sandy blonde hair was as messy as always, but Alfred found himself not caring. His boyfriend was perfect however he was.

When they got in the car, America asked where the hell they could be going so suddenly, but his question was only met by silence and a smile on the Briton's lips.

They had finally made it t to the restaurant England had reserved a table for them in, and America's curiosity only grew. It was quite a fancy restaurant; he understood now the whole nice dressing thing.

Arthur had tried to find the courage to get on one knee and propose America more than one time during their meal. But he was thinking too much about the consequences. Though he had already been this far, he wasn't about to give up now, that would just be ungentlemanly.

After they ate the dessert and England paid the bill –with some difficulties, because America (as the hero he was) wanted to pay for them- and they went out. England suggested a walk in the nearby park and America accepted while raising a brow in curiosity and confusion. He had noticed the other man's odd behavior during the whole day, but the blush on the English man's face right now was more interesting than anything else. However he waited, not pressing his lover.

Arthur stopped walking when they were near a fountain, where he thought there was a nicer atmosphere. There was nobody around them, the moon and some street lights were their only night. Perfect.

England took a deep breath before talking. "Alfred… There is something I'd like to ask you," his tone was soft, tender and yet anxious. America didn't notice the last part.

"Yeah sure, babe! What's it?" the American asked, standing right in front of his beloved. So he was finally going to know what was going on!

"Well…" England cleared his throat, searching his words. Damnit, he had tried all night to find them! But right now it was as if the adrenaline rushing through his veins were making his mind going blank, empty. His heart was beating so fast he feared he'd have a heart attack. The English man cleared his throat once again. "I… We've been together for seventy years now and… and my love for you never changed since then," America blinked, not quite knowing what to say. England continued. "Alfred, love, what I-I mean is… that I… w-want to spend the rest of my life with y-you, no matter what could happen," he found a bit more confidence when, slowly, America's eyes widened in realization.

"Arthur…" the American whispered, not believing his ears, ad wondering if hi mind wasn't playing with him for making him _think_ that England was… he was… proposing to him. England blushed, and slowly, he keeled in front of his lover, and soon-to-be fiancé. Or so he thought.

"Alfred, I love you more than anything else in the world. You only can make me happy like I am right now with you. Alfred F. Jones…" England took another deep breath. Damn his heart was beating even faster! What if he was doing something wrong? What if- No, he shouldn't think of that right now. Arthur moved his hands to reach in his pocket. He took out a small, dark blue velvet-covered box. He opened it slowly so Alfred could see its content. A simple silver ring glowered under the moon light. A precious treasure. "Will you marry me?"

There, he had said it. After a decade of wondering, he had finally made it. Now for the worst part.

England looked at America, who was blushing, his eyes still wide at the confession. He couldn't believe it! England, Arthur, the love of his life, just proposed to him! That was the first time the United States of America was stunned to silence. Oh, damn, yes, that's right; he had to say something, didn't he?

America was still staring at England, without a word. _Did I do something wrong?_ Arthur wondered. Only the soft noise coming from the fountain was disturbing his thoughts. _Maybe it wasn't a good idea after all…_ England slowly lowered his hands, hurt.

America wasn't as dense as some people seemed to thin. Here, he could easily see the hurt, reject and sadness in his lover's green eyes. And all of that because of him. _Shit!_ What kind of hero was he to make his boyfriend sad… especially under these circumstances, none the less!

Before he knew it, he felt something wet rolling down his cheek. What was- He reached up to touch his cheek and felt water on his fingers. Was he… crying? England broke the silence.

"Alfred…?" he asked as he saw the tears, concern obvious in his voice. "Are you… alright? I know I shouldn't have… I-I'm terribly sorry, Alfred!"

The American blinked one time, the two. When he finally found his voice again, he spoke. "A-Artie… I'm ha-happier than I've ever been!" his voice broke at the end of the sentence. America sobbed and fell on his knees. Soon enough, England found himself wrapped in a tight embrace. America was hugging the life out of his lover, arms around his neck, crying. "I love you Arthur! Y-You have n-no idea just… just how much!"

England's eyes widened. D-Did that mean… "Alfred, is t-that a…" he didn't have to finish his sentence though. America let go of his lover's neck and grabbed both of his cheeks to pull him in a kiss. When he broke it, he whispered. "Yes," And he kissed England once again. Another "Yes," and another kiss followed. He repeated the action over and over again, until England ran his free hand in the American's hair, keeping his lips on his own for a moment.

When they broke apart, with swollen lips, England's eyes were wet, and America's ones were red and puffy. But both were shining with happiness and love.

"I love you, Alfred," England whispered, and America kissed him again.

Finally, England showed the box to America and took the ring. With a fond smile, he put the box back in his pocket, and took America's left hand. The American was grinning in excitation and blushed a brighter shade of pink.

Arthur brought the hand to his lips and kissed Alfred's left ring finger before slipping the ring on it.

When it was done, they both looked at it in adoration. Without a word, they crashed their lips together in a passionate kiss. America nipped on England's lower lip, and was granted access quickly. He pushed his tongue against Arthur's, licking everything he could reach. And hell if it didn't taste good.

England's wet muscle was swirling around America's in a slow rhythm. When they both lacked oxygen in their lungs, they pulled away smiling.

"It must be the best day of my life, babe," America grinned.

"And so is it for me, love," England sighed in relief and contentment, letting go of all his doubts, fears and stress.

He was happier than one could be.

They ended the day together in England's bed. Needless to say, their activities this night –the whole night to be precise- left them breathless, spent and content. No one cared about the strained sheets for now. All that mattered was the presence of the other, the warmth of the embrace and knowing that their love would never fade.


	2. The meeting

**Author's note: **Beware, long chapter ahead! :U

So, just as promised, there you go with the smut~ It's quick though, I'm keeping all my ideas for the Honey Moon ;w; And guess who will top?

Anyway, enjoy my crazyness lovies~

**Disclaimer: **Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.

~o~0~o~

During the next few months after England proposed America, the two men were busy with their jobs as nations. But they were both finding time for all the preparations of their wedding. Nobody except them and their bosses knew about the union for now, England deciding that it'd be best. In truth, he didn't want to be the center of attention during the next World Conference. He would send the invitation later.

One day, when they were together in England's house, America shoved a magazine in England's face. Rather angrily, Arthur pushed him and the magazine away.

"Buuut, Artie, look!" As if the English man could see anything when the paper was on his face! Stupid American. When the magazine was readable, however, England blinked.

"What?" It was a wedding magazine, and on the page America was showing him, there was the picture of a woman in a white, long dress.

"I found your dress, babe! This one's perfect!" the American grinned.

"I am not going to wear a bloody dress, Alfred!" England snapped back. There was absolutely no way he was. He was a man, bloody hell! "Besides, I'm the one who proposed, so you're the one in the role of the girl, love," he smirked, already imagining Alfred in a dress. That could be fun.

"No way, I'm a hero!" America replied, shocked by England's suggestion.

"So you will understand me when I say that I don't want to wear a dress," England crossed his arms over his chest and raised a brow. America seemed to understand as he let out a sigh.

"Alright, geez, I thought it'd be cool!" America scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "We order two suits then?"

"Yes," the English man uncrossed his arms and instead wrapped them around his lover's neck. The other man smiled warmly and wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist, stealing a quick kiss.

"White?"

"White."

~0~

Though they came to an agreement on the suits without many problems, the place was much more difficult to find.

"How 'bout Las Vegas?" America asked one day. He was drinking his morning coffee, sitting across of England, who was sipping his tea. The Brit raised a prominent eyebrow.

"Are you kidding me? I'm bloody well not going to get married over there," he snapped, not letting America argue on that.

"Well, help me Artie! I've listed all the best places in the States!" the American whined? England frowned but blushed. He sent a glare at America, and then looked down at his cup of tea.

"Git," England started. "You never asked about me," he continued staring at his tea? America blinked. Oh. He was so stupid! England had big and pretty churches as well. Alfred felt a pang of guilt building in his chest.

"I know the perfect place then!" America grinned and England looked up, curious.

"And that would be…?"

"Westminster Abbey!" America exclaimed, his grin spreading from ear to ear. Hey, he had seen the Royal Wedding, and who wouldn't want to get married there? He should've thought of it before!

It was definitely the best place for them, Alfred thought. The big, beautiful and famous abbey in London could contain the nations and the other guests. Besides, the America was sure that, just like him, Arthur wanted to get married there. If the beautiful wide green eyes and the dark blush on the English nation's cheeks were any proof that is.

"Y-You know only people of the Royal family can get married there, don't you?" England stuttered, allowing his blush to disappear slowly.

"Well, we're representing _countries _Artie, there's no way they'd refuse us this favor!" the American half-whined, half-pleaded. Arthur sighed.

"Yes we are, Alfred but that doesn't mean we can get everything we want," he tried to explain. The younger seemed to think at that, but grinned suddenly, apparently having one of his brilliant ideas in mind.

"Arthur, I'm gonna go see the Queen and ask her in person!" America's grin only grew wider when England's frown turned into a shocked scowl.

"I'm bloody not letting you see the Queen! Who knows what could happen! If you do something wrong-" Englland couldn't finish his sentence, America was pleading him with his eyes in such a cute manner- Wait, cute? Sure it reminded him of the peaceful times when America was just a young boy, but cute, right now? Yes, and most adorable too. Alfred's blue eyes were shinning with hope, he was pleading with all his heart- Oh hell, he gave up.

"Oh bollocks. Fine. But don't forget your manners when-" Once again the English man wasn't able to finish his sentence as he found himself wrapped in a tight and warm embrace. "Alfred…"

"Thanks Arthur," America whispered in his lover's ear. "You won't regret it, you'll see!" he pulled back a little, just to stare fondly into Arthur's eyes. "Besides, it's not like you _don't_ want to get married there right?" he let out a soft chuckle as England blushed at least ten different shades of pink.

"Y-You brat…" the English man heartlessly insulted the boy. Why was America guessing things right all the bloody damn time? England pinches the American's cheek gently, then leaned to kiss him. "If it's possible, it'd be lovely to do the ceremony in the Westminster Abbey," he practically purred against Alfred's lips, who smiled at this. "But," England suddenly pulled away. "There's no way I'd let you go see the Queen alone," he stated, smirking.

"I knew it, babe," America laughed and kissed England once more. "You'll accompany me, then?"

"Of course, git," they both smiled at each other.

~0~

After this, America had to come back to the United States, and England took upon himself to go see the Queen and ask for a meeting with the American nation and her. When the meeting was agreed and England could get out of the choking air of the Buckingham Palace, he didn't waste a second to call his boyfriend and plan his light back to England.

They had been separated for less than a week, but both felt it had been way too long without seeing each other. When America' plane landed in the airport, in London, the America literally ran, arms open, towards his lover. England found himself falling backward at the shock from meeting physically with the other. But Alfred was fast and strong enough to grab the English man and hug him tight.

"I missed you, Artie!" America hugged the other tighter.

"W-Well, would you… please stop hugging me now?" England asked, suffocated by America's strength.

"No way, I missed you!" the lad didn't move. And he didn't notice England's face becoming paler than usual. Though the blush on his cheeks was bright because of the contact.

"First, git, w-we're in bloody public!" England said in a breath. "A-And you're suffocating me..!"

"Oh," America released his fiancé. The English man took a deep breath, regaining some colours on his face and glared at America.

"Next time, I swear I'll kill you before you even approach me," he stated, crossing his arms.

"I love ya too, Artie," America grinned in response and threw his arm around Arthur's shoulders. Then he leaned and kissed his lover's cheek. England frowned, but America noticed the slight movement upwards of his lips. Making Arthur Kirkland smile was a thing a hero could do. And Alfred was happy to be this hero. Besides, now he was sure England was too.

"Should we head back home, then?" Arthur cut Alfred in his train of thoughts.

"Yep!" the younger threw a fist in the air, then grabbed his trunk and followed England to his car. The English man rolled his eyes at the boy's antics, but smiled, happy that they were together again.

Once they got in the car, America's truck being forgotten in the back seat, Alfred leaned suddenly and grabbed England's chine, to turn his head. They stared at each other for a moment, as if to learn about the other again, their eyes wandering in the other's face. As if some force was controlling them, their eyes met, deep emerald green and bright cerulean, and it was enough of a signal to make them smash their lips together in a rough, sloppy and longing kiss. Right now, they could agree that a week was far too long to stay apart. England moaned slightly when he felt America's tongue rub on his lower lip. Immediately opening his mouth, e accepted America's wet muscle gratefully and swirled his own around his lover's.

Oh they had missed this feeling! Alfred ran a hand in Arthur's hair, eliciting another moan. Sadly, they still were of a human's composition, and their lungs wouldn't work without fresh air. The English man was the first to pull away, but they were both breathless.

"I-I missed you too, Alfred," England said, licking his lips. America smiled warmly, but stared at England's tongue moving way too slowly to his own licking. Wait scratch that, he freaking _loved_ the way his lover's lips moved, how swollen they had become due to the kiss, and his tongue, wet and red, absolutely delicious- Oh god. He was getting hard quicker than ever, after just a goddamn _kiss_ –an awesome one though-

"Alfred?" Oh fuck. If you had just heard England right now, his voice was so seductive and- Shit. He was smirking.

"Y-Yeah?" Where the hell did this stutter come from? America noticed how his how voice sounded hoarse, husky… _aroused_. England was merciless in those times, America knew. But it's not like he minded at all.

"Are you alright?" the English man leaned and 'accidentally' brushed his hand against the forming bulge in America's trousers. There he was starting.

"Fuck you," America shivered at the touch, but then grinned.

"Care to go back home so you can do that, love?" England kept his smirk on his lips as he leaned back on his own seat, still keeping an eye on his lover. Bollocks, he was starting to get aroused too. He'd have to drive fast.

"Oh yes," America replied with a smug expression.

One would think their trip back home would be without any problem, but it would be not taking a half-hard American into account. Said American was indeed running his hand up and down England's thigh, pinching and stroking some _inappropriate_ places, making the Brit squirm. The faster they could get home, the best it'd be. For everyone.

When England parked right in front of his house, America quickly opened his door and practically ran to the house. England followed a second later. Even though they hurried up, it seemed like hours since they left the car. They were far too impatient.

England hurriedly opened the door and shoved the American inside. He closed the door in one swift movement, not bothering to lock it. America grabbed his lover by the waist and pulled him close, claiming his mouth like no tomorrow.

Moaning slightly, Arthur pinned Alfred against a wall –he had lost all sense of orientation so it could be the door or even a furniture, it's not like it mattered anyway- America moaned back, moving his hands up on England's back, slipping them under his shirt to feel the muscles of his lover. Arthur really wasn't the most muscular person in the world, but the nice curves under America's fingers were enough to arouse the American even more. He could feel his spine, then his shoulder blades, strong, energetic. The American broke the kiss for a second, only to pull England's shirt up to his head and threw the cloth somewhere.

Arthur mimiced his lover's movement and grabbed America's shirt to throw it away. When it was done, they crashed their mouths back together, ravaging one other. It wasn't loving. It wasn't tender nor slow. It was wild and passionate, longing.

The American moaned loudly in the kiss as he felt Arthur's fingers on his torso. They moved slowly –in contrary of their tongues- exploring each muscle on this well-built chest.

"A-Aah, Arthur!" America broke the kiss and threw his head back to shout out his pleasure. England had stopped his fingers on America's nipples and started to pinch and twist them. He also brought a knee in between his lover's legs, applying a really much wanted pleasure in the painful bulge in the American's trousers. And all of this at the freaking _same time._ It was so sudden and unexpected that it almost threw the younger over the edge. America should've known that was going to happen to him when he had first seen his fiancé's smirk. But he wasn't complaining, never. Now though, he was more eager than ever.

"Yes love?" England smirked wider as he earned more delightful noises from his lover. God, nothing was better than those noises. England found himself trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling between his own legs to focus only on his lover's problem. He let go of the nipples and slid his hands down, slightly caressing the American's tummy before unzipping his trousers. Waiting for America to recover from the pleasure, he lowered his head to kiss his lover's neck. He pressed his knee a bit more on America's groin.

"Y-You… Ah! I th-thought I-aah! Was gonna fuck you!" America panted, finding some difficulties in thinking right.

"I'm not…" England licked America's neck, eliciting another moan. "…stopping you from that," he finished. Then he started to rub his knee in circles, pressing down on America's member. The American moaned loudly and ran both of his hands in his lover's hair, pulling him closer.

"Fucker… Aaah!" Alfred swore and moaned when Arthur bit down on his neck and started sucking. After making sure that the spot would stay red long enough, Arthur pulled away, smirking.

"What a good choice if word, love," England pulled down America's trousers, still rubbing his knee. He shuddered from the noises falling from his lover's mouth. God, his own erection was starting to really ache. He moved one of his hands to touch himself through his trousers, and bit his lip not to moan. America noticed though, that England was trying to please him, America, only. As a hero, Alfred couldn't let the English man touch himself. Besides, Arthur was going painfully slow and he _needed_ his lover right about _now. _So he acted.

Sliding his hands down from Arthur's hair, the younger grabbed his shoulders and turned around, pinning a really surprised England against the same wall-door-whatever it was. But the surprise disappeared quickly when Alfred unzipped Arthur's trousers, pulled it down –all in one second at most- and bucked his hips, making their two fully hard members touch through their boxers. The two men moaned at the same time_._

"B-Bloody hell, Alfred…" England looked at his lover with half-lidded eyes, clouded by lust. America looked back with the same desire. Damnit all, one week was definitely too long. "Do me n-now," the English man demanded, and before America could reply anything, he bucked his hips back, creating more friction.

"Y-Yes," America moaned and locked their lips together again. He started to move his hands around the waistband of Arthur's boxer, and pulled it down. England quickly did the same with America's boxer. The American carefully rested one of his hands on the other's lower back.

"F-Fuck, Alfred, now means _now!_"

"I-I don't have lube-"

"I don't bloody care Alfred, I just need you now!" England was becoming impatient and he let it know by bucking his hips more fiercely against America's. The American groaned in pleasure and bucked his hips faster. At the same time, he slowly pushed one finger into Arthur's tight entrance. England squirmed at the intrusion, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling. It already started to hurt since Alfred's finger wasn't wet, but England didn't mind it rough, after all it meant to have Alfred, and Alfred only, in him. Arthur started to rock back on the finger, silently allowing Alfred to continue.

As gently as he could –you have no idea what it's like to have Arthur Kirkland like this in front of you. You kind of can't think right anymore- America slipped another finger in, and slowly started to move them around, scissoring them. Luckily England was quite wet inside, so it wasn't too painful, but the English man frowned in concentration, trying to relax his muscles. America, noticing this, leaned and nibbled on England's earlobe to distract him. It started to work; Arthur let out a slight moan. Guessing that three fingers would probably hurt too much, America grabbed their two erections together and started to pump them. Loud moans filled the room, along with pants and the noise of flesh against flesh.

America was about to push a third finger into England's still tight entrance, when the English man cupped both of his cheeks and locked their gazes.

"I-It's enough n-now," he said and kissed America quickly on the lips. The American's eyes widened. He wanted Arthur really now, but he would never hurt him. And now Arthur wasn't stretched enough; it'd hurt. Plus they still didn't have lube. "I-I won't be a-aah-ble t-told longer, Alfred!" the English nation explained. He bucked into America's hand, urging him.

Alfred complied and withdrew his hand, letting also go of their erections. He slid one hand on Arthur's thigh and gently lifted it around his waist. Arthur responded by wrapping said leg around America's back.

"Hold on tight, babe," And this time, it was England's turn to comply. He wrapped his arms around his lover's neck and leaned back against the wall. America securely wrapped an arm around England's waist, and held him tight when the English man, lifted his second leg. America rubbed himself with his slightly wet hand and positioned himself at England's entrance.

"If you don't do it, I will," England warned, looking into his lover's bright blue eyes with determination.

"No way," America replied with a smirk, finding more confidence as he stared back in England's green orbs. Slowly, the American lowered his partner, pushing the tip of his throbbing member into the tight, hot cavern that was England. Arthur growled in pan and dig his nails in Alfred's back, trying to adjust to the size of his lover's cock. They were both panting, one from pain, the other from pleasure. America waited any kind of signal that could tell him to continue. When England bit down on America's neck, he thrust in again.

"Nghhh…" Were all the sounds England managed to get out of his mouth. The pain was making his mind dizzy, but the jolts of pleasure he felt sometimes were worth it. Leaving another red mark on his lover's neck, England moaned.

"A-Alfred… M-Move…" That was all of what America needed to thrust fully inside, and let out a loud moan.

"G-God, Arthur… You're so tight!" America leaned to kiss England again, pushing his tongue in the other's mouth. Their tongues began to dance in rhythm. That was the pleasure Arthur needed to lift himself up, and slam back on America's erection, impaling himself. He let out a low moan of mixed pain and pleasure, while America practically shouted his pleasure in the kiss. He leaned in, kissing harder and deeper. England didn't mind the pain; all he wanted was Alfred to feel good. _That_ was making him feel good. The American started to move his own hips, pulling out of the hot hole, and slamming back inside in a matter of second.

Soon enough, the two were a tangled mess of moans and groans, saliva rolling down on both their chins, and pleasure rushing through their veins. With one particularly deep and hard thrust into him, Arthur screamed.

"AAAHHH, RIGHT THERE!" So, there it was. America smirked through his haze, and thrust at the same angle. "Alfred! Oh god!" England's shouts filled the air, along with America's ones. Alfred grabbed Arthur's member and started to pump it in rhythm with his hips, determined to make his lover feel as good as he felt right now. This action made Arthur shout louder, lost in ecstasy.

"Arthur! Aaaahgh…!" America moaned loudly when he felt his hair being entangled around his lover's fingers. A loud, pleasurable scream of his name; that was all Arthur needed to be thrown over the edge. He came, hard, all over their chests, crying out his lover's name. Though he was tired, he continued to move his hips, allowing the American to feel more pleasure as he tightened around the member. With another kiss, Arthur muffled Alfred's cry of ecstasy when he came, filling the English man's insides to the brim. Some of the white and sticky substance was falling down on the floor already, but Alfred didn't pull out.

England rested his head on America's shoulder, and kept his arms wrapped around his neck. Alfred tightened his hold on his beloved, before moving toward the stairs. It was England's house, but Alfred new his way around it pretty well. The few steps made towards the stairs created a friction already. His member was pulled in and out slowly, and as he started to climb the stairs, England let out a moan.

"Alfred…" Oh damn, he was getting hard again. Curse Arthur and his beautiful, seductive voice. And his evil smirk. And his action. He just _licked_ America's neck. Well, shit.

The America hurried toward the bedroom and rested England on the bed never fully pulling out. America's blue eyes met with dark green ones, and his smirk was met by an equally-sized one.

"Ready for another round, babe?" Alfred asked and leaned to kiss his lover's nose, cheeks and eyelids. His question was answered by a hard thrust of the English man's hips. No one needed a translator. England used his arms to pull America closer to him, and kissed him passionately. Alfred pulled out and thrust back inside of England, hard, fast and deep, aiming straight for Arthur's sweet spot.

The room was once again filled with loud moans, and the cracking noises coming from the bed. Needless to say, they spent another sleepless night.

~0~

Later, the same week, Alfred and Arthur found themselves in front of the Buckingham Palace. They were wearing suits, they had combed their hair as best as they could; they looked the nicest possible, wanting to try any chance they had to convince the Queen to let them use the abbey. With one last nervous glance at each other, they passed the guards and entered into the Palace.

England had already been there hundreds times, but never as nervous as he was right now. Knowing the Queens, they had their chance as well. But he didn't know how she'd react at the news. He walked a bit closet to America and reached for his hand, squeezing it a bit. Alfred squeezed back without hesitation, and flashed him a reassuring grin.

America had had the chance to visit the Buckingham Palace once already, but it was always surprising him by its beauty. It was so big and sumptuous

He felt England tense next to him, and noticed that they were now in front of a door, and the Queen was right behind.

"Remember to be respectful and-" England turned to look at America who was grinning and didn't let the other finish.

"And everything, yeah, yeah. Don't worry Arthur," he simply replied. The he intertwined their fingers, making the Brit blush. England nodded at the guard and the door was opened.

The inside of the room was richly decorated and the architecture was just as beautiful. There were chandeliers on the roof, but the large windows were enough source of light. There was a large table in the center of the room and the Queen was sitting there, on the opposite side of them. She was dressed nicely with a simple blue dress, a necklace and some bracelets were complementing her ring ears. She smiled when she was the two men coming in hand in hand.

"Hello, gentlemen," she said softly. "Please take a seat," she mentioned with her hands both sides of the table. There was a kettle with boiling water, boxes with many different kinds of tea, and delicate, porcelain-made cups. America cringed at that. He didn't like tea, and he didn't want to deal with that _right now_. But England told him to behave himself, and the sake of their goal he'd have to- Oh. The American noticed a mug, also porcelain-made, and a pot with coffee. _God saves the Queen_ Alfred ironically thought? He flashed a grin at the Queen.

"Madam," he spoke softly, voice respectful just like England told him to do. The Queen gave a nod of agreement and turned to the British nation.

"Your Majesty," England greeted her with a small respectful smile, which was returned greatly.

With a last squeeze on his lover's hand, England let go and walked to the seat at the right of the Queen. America seated himself at the left.

"Please do serve yourself, gentlemen," the Queen mentioned to the tea and coffee. America didn't waste a second and poured himself a big mug. England, more delicate, picked a teabag and poured the hot water in his cup slowly and carefully. He set the kettle back down on the table, waiting for his tea to brew.

"Alright, what is this sudden meeting about?" the Queen locked her eyes with England's. "You've gotten me curious with your pleading as well," she smiled. America couldn't help but chuckle at this. Never would he have assumed that _England pleaded_ the Queen. Arthur shot him a glare, but it disappeared quickly as he looked back at the Queen.

"We would have a favour to ask you, your highness," England didn't fumble with his words, but America could tell he was nervous. The American gulped down a long sip of his coffee, it was the hero's turn to speak!

"We're going to get married, Madam," That was odd for America to use 'going to', but he'd do anything to get the abbey for England and himself. England flushed, both at the statement and the proper English.

"Is that so?" the Queen raised a thin brow and a knowing smile made its way on her lips. She looked at America then rested her gaze on her country's personification's flushed face.

"You don't seem surprised at all, your Majesty," England noted. Well, better this than an argument.

"I knew this day would come," she replied, still smiling, a glimpse of amusement in her eyes. She turned to America, knowing he'd have the answer to her question. "So tell me, how did it happen?" the Queen lifted her cup of tea and sipped it very slowly, keeping an eye on the American. Alfred blushed a bit and forgot who he was talking to in his excitement.

"Yup, Artie there proposed me, ya know!" he exclaimed, not even noticing his rudeness, not the murderer glare that was sent in his direction from England. The Queen's smile just grew wider. "He was al blushing and unsure. And he even cried!" America laughed; England blushed in embarrassment and cursed under his breath. "But he didn't need to be that nervous, I wasn't gonna say no. And it was the best day of my life," he added tenderly while looking at England lovingly and smiling fondly. This made the English man stop cursing, but he blushed brighter.

"I have the feeling that he wasn't the only one crying," the Queen said, amused by England(s reaction at America's sweet words.

"Well…" the American scratched the back of his neck.

"Congratulations on you two," she continued, making the two blush darker. She smiled when she received two mumbled 'thank you''s. "So, what was this favour you told me about?" the Queen asked, looking at Arthur.

"Oh well…" the Englishman trailed off, searching for his words. Alfred gave him a bright grin and England nodded, allowing him to continue.

"We came here to ask your Majesty if we could use the Westminster Abbey for our wedding," the American said, looking straight into the Queen's eyes, determinate.

"Tell me, my boy, why would I let you use the church in which only the Royal family has the right to get married in?" the Queen asked, looking back into America's eyes without flinching. England twitched. This conversation wasn't going in the right direction. Who knows what kind of rubbish America could-

"Because I'm a hero and heroes always get what they want! Especially if it's for their damsel," the America flashed a grin at his lover, who blushed and glared. "But more important, this is Arthur's wedding, and I want the best for him," he continued while looking at England, his lips curved into the same fond smile every time he'd murmur him sweet nothings. England blushed brighter and looked away, embarrassed by America's kind attention. Alfred chuckled and looked back at the Queen, who was smiling against her cup.

"If it's not a proof of love, then I don't know what it is," she said, setting the cup back on the table in a delicate movement. She looked at England, then back at America. "Alright, dear America. I'll talk to the priest, and you'll be able to take our dear England's hand in the Westminster abbey," she stood up, immediately followed by the two men. "Arthur, I'd like you to tell me the details of the preparations," she added towards the older blonde, who nodded. America grinned a bright, winning smile while England wore a small sincere – and relieved- one. They were both blushing. The Queen addressed to America once again.

"Please take good care of him, gentleman," she said half serious, half amused. America grinned wider and nodded frantically.

"Of course! Ye can count on the hero!" England rolled his eyes when America thumbed up and once again forgot what respect was. The Queen nodded and walked towards her country's personification.

"I won't worry about you, I know you'll be happy," she said, reading his happiness in his eyes. England's eyes widened a bit, but then he smiled and nodded. The Queen smiled back and waved her hand, telling hi to come closer. England glanced at America, who shrugged. Arthur leaned, and the Queen whispered something in his ear. America could only guess what it was about since he couldn't hear anything. England suddenly pulled back, blushing furiously.

"B-But…!" he stammered. America's curiosity grew and he tilted his head to the side, wondering what exactly could have made England blush like this.

"You aren't going to say no, right?" the Queen smiled, knowing that England wouldn't contrary her.

"Fine, your Majesty," the Brit finally nodded. America still didn't know what it was about, but he stayed silent, promising himself to ask his lover later. The Queen tip-toed –she was a bit shorter than England- and kissed Arthur's forehead, just like a mother would do with her son. England blushed even more.

"I'm glad you are happy, Arthur," she whispered, this time loud enough so America heard. It made the Brit blush brighter –if it was even possible at this point- God, if he could disappear in the ground, he would have already!

With a last smile at the two men, she made her way out of the room. America waved at her, and turned to his lover, chuckling. He was about to comment on how cute what happened was, but he was cut as he opened his mouth by a very harsh glare.

"A word about it and I rip your head off," This simple sentence sent a shiver down America's spine, and made him forget about what he was going to say. Damn, England really could kill with his glare. But America envied England's relationship with the Queen. It really was treasurable.

"Alright, alright!" America raised his hand in surrender, grinning, trying to ignore the sweat rolling on his forehead. "I'm gonna say nothing 'bout it!" Okay, that was to piss England off on purpose. England rolled his eyes and America grinned wider. Arthur couldn't resist that smile though; he walked to his lover and pecked him on the lips.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"You're welcome, babe!" America wrapped his arms around England's waist to bring him closer to kiss him properly. "Nothing can resist _your_ hero, ya know!"

"Git," Arthur leaned in the embrace, resting his head on Alfred's shoulder. They stayed silently like thus for a moment until America's voice broke the silence.

"You really were cute with the Queen, though."

That was all before England smacked the lad behind the head. America ran outside with a loud laugh, followed by an angry England.

In the end they had what they wanted, and they were both extremely happy… Even if their ways of showing it were quite different.

When they were exhausted from running like wild animals outside, the two men sat in a park, panting.

"Bloody wanker…" England was breathing heavily, glaring at his lover.

"'Love ya too, Artie," America replied and fell back on the grass. England soon followed him and lied down right next to him. America turned to look at him and gave his boyfriend a fond smile. Once again, England couldn't resist; he snuggled closer to the American with a sigh.

"Say, Arthur?" America whispered when they could finally breathe normally.

"Hmm?"

"What did the Queen told ya?" England immediately blushed and hid is face in America's chest. Then he mumbled something unintelligible.

"I didn't quite get that, love," Alfred laughed, and the Brit looked up at him, flustered.

"She gave me a day off for… our Honey Moon," the English man looked away as he sputtered out the last part. America's eyes widened a bit, and he grinned, wider than possible.

"So we have a whole day for us?" the American kissed his lover's cheek. England looked back at him, and smiled tenderly. Alfred's heart melted.

"It seems so."


End file.
